


Polaroid

by Civilized_muppets



Series: Oh, How He Hated Gold [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack, Gavin is Kind Midas, GoldenTouch, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Midas Gavin, Midas Touch, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Civilized_muppets/pseuds/Civilized_muppets
Summary: A series of one shots taking place at varying points in the “Oh, How He Hated Gold” universe.





	1. High Hopes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I’m back. I’ve decided to make Polaroid a series of one shots, so I can keep giving you guys content while I work on the big story. High Hopes takes place before Ryan is sure Gavin is Midas.

Ryan didn’t usually leave the penthouse without his mask. Hell, he didn’t usually leave his  _ room _ without his mask. But well, it was 3 A.M., and Jack had forgotten to pick up more Diet Coke the last time she went to the store.(She was the only one who went grocery shopping, as the rest of them were banned after Ryan had smashed the cases holding the rifles and proceeded to shoot up the place, Gavin hacked the intercoms to play the Bohemian Rhapsody at full volume, Geoff raided the alcohol section and ended up making molotov cocktails which he then threw into the produce aisle, Ray lit a blunt on the fire, and Michael left the building, hotwired a car, then drove it through the wall. Michael and Ray died in the fire, Geoff was too drunk to drive, and Gavin couldn’t drive for the life of him, so Ryan ended up driving them home. It was probably the most awkward drive in his life. Gavin spent it glaring at him, Ryan spent it trying to ignore him, and Geoff was in the backseat belting french drinking songs. They had returned with a single lunchable and an already opened can of chicken noodle soup, neither of which were on the list. The store burned down. Jack banned them from shopping for groceries for eternity.)

 

So, Ryan had snuck into an alley, took off his mask and jacket (He hadn’t put on face paint because that would be counterproductive), stashed them behind a dumpster, and made his way to the 7/11 across the street.

 

Naturally, given the time, there weren’t many people there. There was a cashier behind the counter who clearly didn't want to be there checking out at least a dozen bottles of 5 Hour Energy for what looked like a college kid dead on his feet. There was a man who looked like he was a trucker surveying the beef jerky, and a pair of teenagers who had clearly snuck out and had run out of shit to do. 

 

Ryan nodded to the cashier, and went straight to the drinks.

 

Now, he’s not proud to admit this. He’s the Vagabond, the best mercenary in the US, if not the world. He was a shadow. He was a ghost.

 

He crashed into someone in a 7/11 at 3 in the morning and sent them both spiraling onto the floor.

 

Not his best moment.

 

“Fuck a duck!”

 

Oh dear god.

 

Ryan got to his feet, desperately hoping he was wrong. The man was blond, tan, dressed in sweatpants, a shirt that was too big on him, golden gloves, and a purple hoodie, and he was surrounded by cans of red bull. The man looked up, and his piercing emerald eyes locked onto his.

 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

 

Gavin.

 

He wasn’t wearing any makeup or any sunglasses, his designer clothes were gone. Ryan was pretty sure that shirt was Geoff’s, and there was a significant possibility that jacket was Ray’s. His hair was less stylishly messy and more just plain messy. The only thing that remained from the man Ryan lived with was his signature golden gloves.

 

They were in their civilian identities. The immortality of the Fakes were a closely guarded secret, and Ryan only had a knife on him. If Ryan had identified the way the hoodie hit on him right, Gavin had a gun. If Gavin shot him, it could give them away. Best to try and ease his anger for now, and hash it out behind closed doors.

 

Ryan hurriedly started to gather up the Red Bull’s on the ground, muttering “ _ shit, shit I’m so sorry” _ under his breath. He heard a beautiful chuckle come from the man who may have once been a king.

 

“It’s all right love, no harm done.”

 

Gavin had never sounded that warm to him before. He looked up at the mans face, and saw a smile. Not the cruel, razor sharp smile with too much teeth he gave people during negotiations, or the one he flashed him when Jack was desperate for them to get along, nice in the surface but barely concealed loathing underneath. No, this smile, was bright, it was soft. His emerald eyes were more amused than anything else, and he had started to help pick up the cans.

 

Ryan was struck speechless. Gavin had never looked at him like this before. Here, in a 7/11 at 3A.M., no makeup, no designer clothes, no flashy jewelry, with the noise in the background not screams, crazed laughter than explosions, but fucking Turning Japanese playing from the speakers, Gavin was more beautiful than Ryan had ever seen him.

 

“Here, let me help you.”

 

Ryan shook himself out of his stupor to finish picking up from the crash, and hand Gavin back his energy drinks. The blonde flashed that amazing smile at him again, this time with pearly white teeth on full display.

 

“Sorry about that Love, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me help you out, yeah?”

 

Ryan nodded, told him what he was here for, and let him pull him towards the fridges. Why was he acting like this? Gavin hated him, why was he being nice now?

 

Maybe Gavin had come to the same conclusion he had, that it was better to not make a scene here. Gavin would help him get his things, shake his hand, and leave, and Ryan would face his fury at the penthouse. That was all.

 

That had to be all.

 

Except it didn’t happen that way. Gavin stayed with him all the way to the checkout, asking ridiculous questions about what he would and wouldn’t do for a million dollars, and really, didn’t he know? Ryan had made that last week off of their drug trade alone. But the scenarios kept getting more and more bizarre, with things like snail assassins and sneeze prompted teleportation. It was… actually one of the best conversations Ryan had had in a long time, probably since Charlotte died. Gavin’s laugh was beautiful, his smile even more so.

 

What was this? Why was Gavin being so nice to him? It wouldn’t have been suspicious had they gone their separate ways. Why was Gavin acting like he… liked him?

 

He didn’t want to entertain the thought, but… could it all be an act? They had never been alone separate from the Fakes before, maybe it was all an elaborate ruse Gavin had concocted for some reason. Maybe he really had a chance.

 

And then the illusion was shattered.

 

“This has been fun love. We should do it again sometime. I’m a cameraman, so I have weird hours but give me a call sometime, yeah? I’d simply adore getting to know you more.”

 

He handed Ryan a paper with his civilian number under the name David, winked at him, and then disappeared into the night. Any normal man would be considered insane to do so in this city, but he was one of the reasons the streets were dangerous, and he was immortal to boot. 

 

Logic caught up with him. 

 

Gavin shouldn’t have reason to give him his number. Gavin shouldn’t have reason to give him his  _ civilian _ number. Gavin shouldn’t have reason to give it to him under a false name.

 

Gavin had never seen him without his mask and face paint, without his jacket and his murder strut.

 

Gavin hadn’t known who he was.

 

When Ryan got home that night with a pack of Diet Coke, Gavin was in the kitchen. He was wearing sunglasses and fancy clothes again, though he hadn’t put on any makeup. Probably didn’t see the need. The blonde sneered at him and stalked away. That settled it then.

 

Still, tonight had proved something. Tonight had proved that without the mask, without the persona, without the weight of  _ Roman _ and  _ Mercenary _ , Gavin genuinely enjoyed his company. Gavin gave him his number.  _ Gavin liked him. _

 

Maybe there was hope after all.

 


	2. Wasted

“Do you really think they’d want this?”

 

Geoff hadn’t always lived at the bottom of a bottle.

 

Before, he had been happy. He’d drank a lot back then, everyone did, it was the only drink you knew was safe most of the time. But he hadn’t  _ needed _ it. He hadn’t  _ craved _ it. 

 

His wife, Griffin, had been a hell of a woman. She had never taken the role of housewife that she was expected to have. She went out and chopped wood with the best of them, and they had hunted together as a team. If gods exist, then she had surely been one of them, because she brought him a miracle.

 

His darling little Adelene. 

 

It wasn’t an easy labor, granting miracles never was. It lasted hours, the midwives calming the soon to be mother as she screamed, Geoff waiting outside the room a wreck, flicking at her every shout. 

 

After more than half a day, the screaming of his wife was replaced by the crying of his baby, and one of the midwives called him into the room. There was his wife, exhausted, smiling, holding a bundle to her chest. She beckoned him closer and held out the bundle for him to take.

 

From the moment he laid eyes upon her wrinkled face, he was a goner. 

 

His darling Adelene, his beautiful daughter. She was the most precious thing Geoff had ever laid his tired eyes upon.

 

He and his lovely Griffin shared the duty of parents. Tradition and society dictated that Griffin would be the sole caretaker, but they had never cared for that, and the thought of missing so much of his daughter's life broke Geoff’s heart. So they shared as much as they could, though it was made difficult given that Griffin, as a woman, was the only one who could feed her. After she was two they transferred her to solid foods, and they shared equally.

 

When Griffin fell pregnant again when Adelene was seven, they were overjoyed. Geoff’s beautiful goddess would gift him with another miracle, and he couldn’t wait. Adelene would talk to her mother's belly, telling her new sibling all about her day, and what to expect from the world. She told the baby about rain, about sunlight, about how delicious their mother’s bread was, and how their father couldn’t cook to save his life.

 

When Griffin went into labor, Geoff waited outside again, this time with his little miracle by his side. It was no less painful hearing his love in pain the second time around, but they said each labor was easier than the last.

 

They were wrong.

 

The labor lasted much longer than Adelene’s had, and his daughter had fallen asleep long before. When the screaming stopped again, he listened closely for the first sounds of his second child.

 

It didn’t come.

 

One of the midwives opened the door, covered in far too much blood. She looked at him in pity. She said he was needed in the room, that Adelene should sleep and she would watch over her for him.

 

Geoff couldn’t remember much after that.

 

He would have had a son, a beautiful baby boy, had the babe not been stillborn. Griffin had lost too much blood, and though they tried everything they could, there was nothing they could do.

 

He probably would have turned to alcohol then were it not for Adelene. He was all she had left now, he had to be strong for her. He held her while she cried for her mother, and he finished raising her as best he could. What had once been a shared burden was all on him now. He would not marry again, no other woman would compare to his goddess. So he worked and raised her and slept as much as he was able in the meantime.

 

By the time she was 16 she had blossomed into the most beautiful girl in town. Geoff got offers from every man, each wanting to make her theirs.

 

Geoff had fended them off as long as he could, but he knew he was not long for this world. He had grown old, and grief had only aged him faster. He knew what world he lived in. If his daughter was not married when he died, she would get nothing, and have nothing. She would be homeless and as good as dead. She needed a husband. 

 

She met every one of her suitors and cared not for any of them. She knew her situation, and she told her father that it was up to him. 

 

He chose what he thought was best. 

 

Mathieu was rich, he had plenty of land, he was an upstanding young man, and he was close to Adelene in age. He had several younger brothers, so if he died Adelene would still have several buffers between her and ruin. He had never been anything but a perfect gentleman to his little miracle. Geoff was sure that as his bride Adelene would be taken care of for the rest of her days.

 

They married when Adelene was 17 summers and Geoff himself was approaching 40. It was a grand affair, the whole town coming to celebrate. His little miracle was beautiful in her white dress, her golden blonde hair shining in the sun. She did not love her new husband, but she was fond of him, and he made her happy. So Geoff had no regrets when he handed his miracle off to her husband at the altar. 

 

Mathieu, unbeknownst to either of them, had spent the whole of the previous summer building a house in the woods for his new wife. It was quiet, it was secluded, it was large, and it was ready for the new couple immediately. Adelene, who had never been fond of noise, was thrilled.

 

She visited him as often as she could. She was like her mother in the sense that she ignored what tradition laid out for her, and helped him hunt and cut the wood for the fire. She would tell him stories of the sweet does that grazed around her new house, and of how her husband had nearly set the place on fire one morning when he was trying to surprise her with breakfast. She was happy, and so was he.

 

He wasn’t really sure how he died, to be perfectly honest. He remembered telling Adelene a story about her mother, and then waking up in a grave. A heart attack, maybe? He wasn’t sure. 

 

When he crawled out of the dirt, he was confused. How had he gotten there? What happened to his daughter?

 

It was night when he rose, so Adelene would be at her home instead of his. He headed there first. 

 

The sight he came across would haunt him for centuries.

 

He would later curse himself for not noticing how the stories of Mathieu tapered off, how the smile on his little miracles face seemed to dim just a bit. He figured she hadn’t wanted to make his final days stressful, had wanted him to die happy even if she wouldn’t.

 

He almost wished he had.

 

He would never forget how the blood looked in her golden hair, the pain in her bright blue eyes before she had seen him, and they turned hopeful and understanding, thinking that her hell was over and she’d be with him and her mother again. He would never forget the faint smile on her face as the light behind those eyes died.

 

He would never forget the shock on that bastards face, the fear in his eyes when Geoff had turned to him with all the fury only a parent can have, and choked him to death with hands still covered in his little miracles blood.

 

Oh, his little miracle. The greatest gift his goddess have ever bestowed upon him. Dead, and it was all his fault. If only he’d seen the signs, if only he’d lived longer, if only he’d married her to someone else.

 

He turned to the bottle after that night. He didn’t remember much of the next few centuries, stumbling through France in a drunken stupor. It wasn’t until he met Jack that the memories managed to clear up.

 

She was just as scared and confused as he was, probably more so given that she vividly remembered being led to the Guillotine and forced to kneel beneath the blade. She was a member of the Bourgeois, she had never had to worry about things like where her next meal was coming from. He probably hadn’t been the best teacher, but he had done his best. 

 

They stayed together for centuries. As far as they knew they were the only immortals in the world, and if they didn’t have each other they’d probably go insane. He marked the years by the bottles he left behind, she marked them with names. Christiane, Francesca, Divna, and Roxana had all come and gone by the time their friendship became something more. 

 

She wasn’t his goddess, comparing them would be unfair to both. She was far more like a lion, loyal and fierce.

 

As much as he had loved her, he needed the bottle more. It all fell apart when she was Cecelia. The war had left them both stressed beyond measure, and he had made more than a few mistakes whose names he couldn’t remember. They split apart in 1943, and he had headed on the first train to the mainland. 

 

Shame he had chosen Poland.

 

The camps were a hell all on their own. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a bottle to curl up in. He met Joel there. He didn’t know how they managed to hide their status as unkillable until the end of the war, but they had managed it together, and they stayed together after that. 

 

They moved to America, and the first thing he had done after drinking himself to death again was get a tattoo. It wasn’t anything special really, just a pure black Fleur de lis on his forearm. He hadn’t put much thought into it, only cared that it was simple and big enough to cover the numbers. 

 

The tattoo helped, but Geoff was paranoid, that it wasn’t enough, that it was obvious, that all he had done was draw more attention to it. So he just kept getting more. By the time he had met Burnie in 1954 he had his entire left arm covered in designs, and by the time he met Gus in 1966 he had covered his right arm to match. 

 

He hadn’t expected to run into Jack ever again, but in 1968 he managed to do just that. She was Kinsey by then, and she was an even fiercer lioness than the one he left behind.

 

The thing about believing that you are one of only two like you in the world, is that your relationship with the other inevitably becomes unhealthy. You start to depend on each other so much that living without the other becomes unthinkable, and codependency is not a good foundation for any sort of romance. He and Jack decided to remain friends, but nothing more.

 

He never told her about the numbers. He never told anyone.

 

They all started the Roosters, and for awhile, life was good. They ruled the city, the kings and queen of Los Santos, and it remained that way for over 30 years.

 

Geoff could admit that he dealt with his trauma in an unhealthy way. Jack still didn’t approve of his drinking, but Geoff was an adult who didn’t know how to stop, and Jack was a friend who couldn’t bear to lose him again. But at least Geoff was  _ functioning _ .

 

Joel, on the other hand, was not. 

 

He suffered a mental breakdown in 1998. Burnie had found him lying naked in the middle of the living room floor, staring at the ceiling and mumbling in polish about ash. He had been surrounded by the scraps of what had once been his clothing, and his eyes gazed unseeing at Burnie no matter what he did. 

 

They all decided that, for Joel, they should take a break. While Geoff had wanted to help him, all he did was make the illusion of the camps inside Joel’s mind more solid, more real, more able to trap him. So Burnie and Gus had taken him to Chicago, hoping a new place would bring a contrast that would help him get out of his own head. They started over there, while Geoff and Jack held the throne in Los Santos. 

 

When Geoff had seen Gavin again, he was shocked. When he found out he was immortal, he was delighted. The penthouse felt far too empty with just him and Jack, a new member would be more than welcome. Okay, maybe he should have called her first, but he was excited. Three years later Michael and Ray moved in, and the place seemed full again, finally felt just a bit more like home. When Ryan came, it felt like that last piece slid into place, strange animosity between him and Gavin aside. 

 

Geoff was happier than he had been in years, but he still couldn’t let go of that bottle. He still drank far too much, and Jack still frowned just as often. He didn’t like to see that frown, so he started staying up late drinking so she wouldn’t have to see it. Ryan was an insomniac too, but he spent most of his time in his room with his cacti, and Gavin, workaholic that he was, didn’t really notice the quiet drunken man sitting in the corner of the kitchen whenever he briefly surfaced for a Red Bull.

 

At least, Geoff thought he didn’t.

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

The piercing green eyes bored into his from across the table.

 

“I said, do you really think they’d want this?”

 

Geoff narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

 

“Who?”

 

“Your child. Or children, maybe, not sure how many you had. But I know you had at least one. And I know you loved them dearly.”

 

Geoff was now full on glaring at him.

 

“And how do you know that?”

 

Those green eyes now looked just a little bit sad.

 

“You always hate it when you hear about Father’s Day. You let the guard go at the heist last week when you saw the picture in his wallet of his kids, and though you hide it well the the idea of hurting children is absolutely revolting to you. That kind of revoltion only comes from a parent.”

 

Geoff heard the sound of a glass breaking and distantly he registered that he had just dropped his glass.

 

“And how do you know that?”

 

And suddenly Geoff was reminded that though the man I front of him didn’t look any older than 23, he was centuries old.

 

“Takes one to know one, Geoffrey.”

 

They were both quiet for a long time. Geoff wondered if Gavin had a daughter like he had, if Gavin’s little one was as amazing as his little miracle, is Gavin’s little one had just as gruesome an end. Geoff wondered if his son would have grown to look anything like the hacker; after all, he and Adelene both had golden hair and bright eyes, and his goddess’ eyes had been green. 

 

Geoff wondered a lot of things.

 

“Look. I know that this is how you cope. I know that this is how you deal. But if your child was anything like my daughter, seeing you like this would break their heart. Just because it can’t kill you for good doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

 

A golden gloved hand was holding his. When had that happened?

 

“I can’t make you do anything. I can’t make you stop. Your child might not be here anymore, but  _ we _ are. And I know that we can never replace your family then, but we’re your family  _ now _ . Me, Jack, hell, even Vagabond. We care about you Geoff. It kills us to see you like this. And I know it would kill them too.”

 

The blonde gave his hand one final squeeze, then rose from his seat.

 

“Just, think about it, okay?”

 

And then he was gone.

 

Had he ever even been there in the first place?

 

Geoff stared at the broken glass on the floor, then shifted his attention to the whiskey bottle on the table next to him. He could go and get another glass, or just drink from the bottle like he had a million times before.

 

But when he reached for it, Adelebes eyes flashed in his memory.

 

Whether he had really been there or not, Gavin was right. Adelene wouldn't have wanted this for him.

 

He picked up the bottle and stumbled over to the sink, glass cutting into the soles of his feet. Without a thought the opening of the bottle was at his lips, ready to provide some relief-

 

No.

 

He couldn’t keep drinking away his pain. He couldn’t keep muffling the memories with liquor. He couldn’t keep drinking away his mistakes. It was time to face them.

 

He yanked his hand away from his mouth and poured the bottle down the drain. And then he worked his way through the whole liquor cabinet, until every bottle in the house was empty.

 

Immortality was a curse, but he had what everyone always wanted more of. He had time. And he was wasting it at the bottom of a bottle. No more. Time to be a man that his daughter would be proud of.

 

When Jack woke up the next morning and found him passed out on the couch with glass in his feet, she was resigned to it being like every other morning.

 

But when she walked into the kitchen and saw every bottle of liquor they had around the sink, empty, she dared to hope.

 

And when a golden globes hand appeared on her shoulder, attached to a man who was beaming, she dared to hope a little more.

 

Together she and Gavin cleaned up the glass on the floor and got rid of every bottle. They sprayed air freshener all over the kitchen to get rid of the smell of alcohol, and carefully removed the glass from Geoff’s feet. 

 

When he woke up, Jack offered to shoot him to get rid of the damage, finger already on the trigger, but-

 

“No, Jack. I can’t keep taking the easy way out. It’s time to face it.”

 

Then, and only then, did she allow herself to cry.

  
  
  
  



End file.
